A Nameless Story 'Cause Frank Iero Said So
by fuzzzy22
Summary: MCR. Frerard. Life on tour is never easy.


**A/N~ BAHAHAHAAA. Oh lord. That's all I can say.**

**Disclaimer: Idea came from my dear friend Mer. BBY THIS IS FOR YOU. *less than three* Also, if MCR was mine, Frankie and Gee would be stuffed in my closet… and they'd be more canon than your parents.  
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**Note: ****It's obvious, but for those of you who won't get it: It's set in 2005, after Gerard quit his addictions. Erm. Yeah. c:**  
**Oh: Listening to Destroya/Leviathan on repeat whilst reading this, might increment the experience, as well as enjoying atmosphere. *clears throat* That is all.  
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* * *

_Life on tour is never easy._

Mikey sighed, as he poured himself some orange juice. He looked around the tiny bus kitchen, his face twisting from its usual poker face to a grimace.

It was filthy, like they were.

Though, granted, it was Warped Tour. No one really had the opportunity to bathe, even if they wanted to.

With a sigh, he ran a hand over his greasy hair, and shook his head, his brain sluggish and his muscles worn out. Sure, it was fun jumping around on stage, but it got to you after sometime. Thank god the tour was over, and they were on their way back to Jersey. On the bus, granted, but they were going back.

He walked away from the tiny kitchen, and towards the bunks they called their 'rooms' because really, it was the only place they could really have any true privacy, other than the bathroom.

As he walked past Frank's, he noticed it was empty. It was two in the morning, and if Frank was really up, Mikey would've realized it. He's too loud to miss.

He shrugged, still standing by the empty bunk.

_Maybe he's jerking off in the toilet._

But then another thought entered his mind.

_Wouldn't I be able to hear him if he was, though? _

What he did hear, however, was another sound from close by.

_A… A grunt? Or is that… a groan? _

No, that was definitely a moan.

Mikey stopped dead on his tracks, his eyes wide as saucers.

He knew that voice.

"Ow! Fucking… that hurt, Gerard!"

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to do this. I highly recommend you stop complaining."

"Yeah, well I had no idea it'd be this rough!"

The young Way's cheeks turned a rosy pink, his head snapping towards the source of the hushed whispers: Gerard's bunk.

But… it couldn't… be, could it?

Sure, they messed around with each other all the time on stage, but that was, as previously mentioned, _on stage._

There were a couple more grunts and moans of pain from the shorter man, and Mikey couldn't take it. So the poor younger man, feeling quite scarred, tried to walk away, but to no avail. He was frozen on the spot. It wasn't his fault he was an insomniac and couldn't sleep, really. But maybe, just _maybe,_ getting up from his own bunk to relieve his bladder and get some juice had been a bad idea.

Because, let's be honest: who wants to hear their best friend and brother grunting? _Together?_

Well, this Way certainly didn't want to stand here and listen. No thank you.

He repressed the sudden urgent need to sprint back to his bunk, simply forcing his legs to work again, and speed walking as quietly as he could muster.

He wasn't going to sleep that night, not anymore. Thank you, Gerard and Frank. _Really._

He put on his headphones, turning up The Smashing Pumpkins as loud as it would go. He needed to drown his thoughts with anything. _Anything._

Hours, minutes, seconds passed, the morning came, and Mikey still could not find a way to rid his mind of the sounds he had heard, and now come to detest.

He got out of his bunk, tripping over his own feet and his blanket (which whether it's any of your business or not to know, had unicorns on it. With glasses.). He gave a little huff of annoyance and grumbled to himself as he walked towards the small bus kitchen. He got Gerard's bunk, ready to pass by without glancing back, because really, he didn't want to have his mind penetrated by a certain someone's voice, who'd, apparently, been penetrated himself the night prior.

Mikey felt a shiver run up his spine as the thought entered his mind. Gross.

He needed coffee, and he needed it fast. Though, he supposed he could go for more juice. He hadn't been able to sleep in a couple of nights, and the lack of rest was apparent, taking toll on him while onstage. Maybe he should try to take a rest from all the caffeine he was consuming, at least for a night. He needed to recharge his body.

He shuffled his feet, feeling more like a zombie than a human being, as he entered the living area, where Ray sat, playing Call Of Duty on the small TV.

"Morning, princess," the Toro said, his face twisting into a small smile. "Sleep well?"

Mikey grunted, and shook his head no. Ray chuckled.

"Well, that's a first." He said, his voice sarcastic, pursing his lips, and going back to his game.

And with that said, Mikey kept onward with his trip to the kitchen.

"Fuck," he heard a voice he had been hoping to avoid today. "I'm sore all over."

"Not my fault." His brother answered.

"Ugh. My legs are going to be the fucking death of me. If I can't move after today, Gerard," Frank said as the younger Way walked in the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge. "I'll kill you."

"Maybe you should learn to keep yourself in your bunk for once." Gerard advised, his voice light and teasing.

Frank pouted. "But that's no fun!"

Gerard rolled his eyes. "Well, I told you to use protection of some sort. It's not about fun, Frank. It's about pleasure and comfort."

Mikey felt like he was going to puke. He got the juice out, tucked it under his arm, and turned to face the other two, hoping to escape.

He nearly had a heart attack when he realized that Gerard had Frank pinned to the wall. Their faces were twisted into wicked smiles.

"Gerard!" Frank's voice was whiny and Mikey felt like the juice from last night was resurfacing quickly up his esophagus. He turned the other way, hiding his face, pretending to be looking for a cup. He was actually edging closer to the miniature sink, in case the bile in his throat decided to make an appearance.

You see, Mikey wasn't a homophobe, that wasn't it at all. Just the opposite, actually. He would support Gerard and Frank if they were gay and dating (which, mind you, he would have rather found out about _differently_) completely, but it was his _brother_, who he'd _grown up_ with. Hearing what his brother sounds like during… oh god. No, he couldn't even think about it.

"Mikey?" Gerard's voice broke through his reverie and Mikey gulped, fully aware of the blotchy blush that had invaded his cheeks. "You okay?"

Mikey took a quiet quivering breath and put on his best poker face. He was suddenly glad he had turned away. He faced his brother and friend. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Fine." He hoped his voice sounded indifferent.

"You sure? You're blushing." It was Frank who spoke up this time.

Mikey cursed in his head, but kept the poker face steady. "Just tired."

Both men in front of him raised an eyebrow, but turned away. Frank seemed to be entertaining himself by hugging Gerard's waist. Gerard squawked quietly and burst into chuckles. "Frankie!" he whined, his voice playful. Frank gave him a coy smile in return. "Payback, Gee-bear."

If the incident from the night before hadn't imprinted itself on his brain, Mikey would admit that they were a really cute couple.

He hustled away from the kitchen, and towards his bunk. He was going to sleep the rest of the way back to Jersey. Or try to.

* * *

Of course, his brain had other ideas. He woke up at about 2:30 in the morning, feeling so disoriented he fell off his bunk, nearly waking Ray (whose bunk was in directly in front of his) up. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

And then he heard it.

It was a high-pitched giggle, followed by what sounded like a moan.

Mikey's face turned a deep scarlet.

"Shhhh," more giggles.

_Oh, shit._

"But Gee–" Frank was interrupted, and Mikey didn't want to know how.

"I said hush!" Gerard's hushed whispering voice was laced with, Mikey came to realize quite quickly, lust and playfulness.

There were more giggles from Frank, and Mikey couldn't take it anymore. He stood up from his spot by his bunk, and, with shaking legs, made his way to Gerard's bunk, determined.

"Hey Gerard–" he slid the curtain open, suddenly wishing he'd stayed sitting on the floor by his bunk.

He found the Iero with his back to the bed. He also found Gerard straddling him. The lighting was dim but he could tell that both their faces were flushed, and their shirts were off.

"Oh fuck. Sorry. Uhm, yeah. Sorry." He closed the curtain quickly and sped towards his bunk, trying to keep the blush off his face.

"No, Mikey, wait!" Gerard's voice reached his ears, but he was already closing the curtain to his own bunk.

He sat on the tiny bed and sighed.

_Well, wasn't that awkward._

"Hey, Mikey?" Gerard's voice came from directly outside the bunk. He slid the curtain open. He had a shirt on, thankfully, but his face was still flushed. "I can explain." He said, his voice embarrassed. He sat down on the bed.

"Fine, but… Let me talk first." The younger Way said, surprising his brother and himself.

"Oh, uhm. O-okay, yeah. Go ahead."

"What's going on between you and Frank?"

Silence

"…What?"

Mikey rolled his eyes. "You know what I'm talking about. I heard… I heard you guys. The other night."

The quizzical look on Gerard's face turned into one of understanding. "...Oh."

"You still don't understand," Frank was now standing in front of the two Ways, his arms folded over his bare chest.

Mikey's face was turned into his normal poker face. "Feel free to explain, then."

"You see, Frank spilled a bunch of soda and some soup on his bunk the other night. It's all gross and sticky, and since we're already halfway to Jersey, I offered to sleep in my bunk with me until he cleaned his."

Mikey frowned. Okay, that was plausible. Frank was a pig with his food. "What about all the – the… you know."

"…The what?" Frank's eyebrow quirked up and Mikey blushed.

"Y'know. The…" both men looked thoroughly confused and Mikey sighed. "Fucking… the moans, damnit!"

The other two looked at each other. Frank spoke up.

"Gerard's been having weird dreams, Mikey. We think it's a lingering side effect of the withdrawals he underwent last year. Nothing to worry about, but… It's painful to sleep next to him. He punches and kicks in his sleep. I think he secretly thinks he's a ninja or something."

Gerard rolled his eyes and shoved Frank playfully. The smaller man giggled.

"Why didn't you tell me about the dreams, Gerard? Oh, and what about the whole 'protection' talk from this morning?"

Frank pursed his lips, suppressing a heap of chuckles.

"Didn't want to worry you." Gerard sighed. "I had to tell Frank about it since he was gonna be rooming with me. Anyway, I told him to guard his midget body with a pillow or something, for protection. I warned him I was a dangerous sleeper." Gerard shook his head, a bemused smile coloring his face.

Mikey's body relaxed. Gerard chuckled. "C'mon, idiot. Let's go watch us some Dawn Of The Dead or something." He said, standing up, and leaving the bunk.

Mikey sighed, running his hands over his face and hair. He really overthought a lot lately.

As he got up, he noticed Frank was still standing in front of him, his arms still crossed over his chest. "What we just told you was true, for last night. On other nights, though..." his face twisted into a wicked grin, and he bounced away after Gerard.

_Life on tour is really _never _easy._

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**A/N~ HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH. Yeah, this sucks. Erm. Reviews are appreciated. BUT DON'T BREAK ME, I'M SENSITIVE. ;w;**


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